Into Thin Air
by QueenOfQuiet17
Summary: She could disappear at any moment, but she'll leave a lasting impression. Will/Karen. Now complete.
1. I Wish I Might

_May 2000: Karen_

I see you now, lying asleep next to me, and I wish with all of my being that you were him. Even in his sleep, I can tell he's appreciating me, taking me in. I can feel it in his touch, even as his grip is fading from falling into deeper slumber. He holds me as if I'll disappear into thin air if his arms are not around me. But that could just be because of me; I've given him reason enough to think that. In the beginning, for fear of getting caught, I'd slip off every time I heard a creak of the floorboards, anything bordering on footsteps. No one was supposed to know about this; no one would believe us, anyway.

Even in his sleep, he holds me and I know I'm loved. But I don't feel your arms around me now. The entire time I've been here with you, I've felt nothing resembling anything I felt with him. You told me you cared, but I don't see that at all. You told me you're happy that I'm here, but you've done nothing to actually show that. And even though I chose you, you've given me every reason in the world to regret it.

God, Stanley, how I regret it.

We had it at the start, you and I. The little you knew about my childhood, my past, led you to make the promise that you would give me everything money could buy and all the good things that it couldn't. And you delivered, for the most part. Money wasn't an issue for you, so anything I wanted on a whim I got. On that level, it was like I was a spoiled child. I just never put those pieces together before the time I spent with him. The feelings, though, those were hard for you to figure out. You had them, and I could tell sometimes that you did, but you had no idea how to communicate them to me. You thought money, material possessions, were the answer. And I didn't mind it at first. Then he came along.

And he opened my eyes to what you and I have been doing.

I could have blamed Grace; if she didn't take my advice and go after that old high school flame, it wouldn't have happened. I could have blamed Jack; if he didn't go back to that damn bar again, he could have served as a buffer. I started to blame you. If you hadn't have taken your kids to see their mother, I wouldn't have been completely free. I wouldn't have offered up the cabin. I wouldn't have been alone with him. You were gone; I didn't have any obligations. But it wouldn't be fair; I may have hurt you more than you will know, more than you may comprehend, but I would never place blame where it shouldn't go. I felt bad for him, when I heard Grace and Jack talking in her office about his failed relationship with Michael. And as a break in my reputation as the Ice Queen, I okayed this little pity party for him. Trying to take his mind off of this upcoming anniversary that will never be. They had been together for seven years; it takes time to mourn that. How was I supposed to know that this would happen?

But now that it has, in many ways it was the best thing to happen to me. And I threw it away for you.

You didn't seem to care the first few times I actually declined to accompany you on one of your business trips. I always used to go with you; you were making more money, and in turn, I got a free vacation. But your trips started to mean more uninterrupted time with him, and I couldn't turn that down. But once I stopped showing interest in flying to different parts of the world, you began to grow a little suspicious, I could tell. Did you realize that he was the reason? You wouldn't have said anything, either way. You've grown predictable.

That's what I love and hate about you.

I guess it doesn't matter anyway. You win.

I'm here in the Virgin Islands with you because he wouldn't return my calls. He wouldn't speak to me when he came to visit Grace in the office. He reverted back to the way we were before, and I hated it. And I want to blame him. But it was all me. Instead of facing it head on, instead of trying to sit him down and talk this out, I ran. I ran, like I always do. I ran from my mother, I ran from old flames. I ran from you, before agreeing to be here with you. But it ended up like it always does; my mind is filled with questions, regret, and over analysis, and I can't focus on the reasons I came here. I should be focusing on you. And instead, I'm wishing that I was back in Manhattan, in the arms of another man.

I'm so sorry, Stan.

Do you remember how we were before? How you used to touch me with so much meaning behind it? You never were an expert at verbally expressing how you felt about anything—me, especially—but your caress more than made up for it back then. Your hand at the small of my back, your kiss at the nape of my neck, the warmth of your hand over mine said everything you couldn't. And I believed it all.

But the broken promises piled up in a heap of shards on the floor, building a jagged barrier between the two of us. Maybe it was so gradual that you didn't even realize that you couldn't see me anymore. But I watched as each promise shattered and added a new layer to the growing wall. And even if I wanted to do something about it, I wouldn't have been able to; if you didn't see it, it wasn't there. If it wasn't there, it wasn't a problem. If it wasn't a problem, I shouldn't have to worry about it. If I shouldn't have to worry about it, my mind should be clear.

So why isn't it?

That answer's simple. I'm not like you; I can't ignore a problem—because we both know that's what it is, Stan; you're not that oblivious, you're not that ignorant—when I'm faced with it. I may run away from it, but I still know it's there. I'm trying to fix ours, while I've still got one with him.

Him. I haven't been able to say his name since it all ended. Why haven't I been able to? It's quick, simple, one word. But where I could say your name in my mind in his presence and not feel anything, if I said his name in my mind in your presence now, it would hurt in a way I can't explain. But at least I would be feeling something.

Will.

God, Will. The one who told me he would never hurt me. I guess in a way, he did exactly what you have done. Those damn face-saving promises getting in the way, building that barrier. Except ours happened over the course of our marriage. Will's and mine happened in one blow. All those pieces stacking up, higher and higher. It killed me to know that the reason why I ran to him turned out to be the reason I'm running from it all.

I tried, earlier, while you were sleeping. I tried to let you know that I was here with you, fully here with you, so that maybe your subconscious could absorb it and feel it in the morning. I brushed my fingers against the outline of your arm, pressed myself to your body like I used to when we first started sharing a bed. But it didn't work for me. And if it didn't work for me, I doubt it will work for you.

At least I'm trying.

Sometimes I just don't know what for.

Sometimes I think if I can just get everything out, say everything that's on my mind, I'll feel so much better. But you're still fast asleep, and I won't wake you. I just don't know how to change the way I feel.

Because I see you now, lying asleep next to me.

And I wish with all of my being that you were him.


	2. Breaking the Cycle

_March 1999_

With the cabin to herself, she could think of nothing better to do than lay flat on her back on the couch, a glass of wine resting on the coffee table. It was the last night of their weekend in Vermont, and despite her expectations of at least one of the group being with her at all times—there wasn't much to do up here, anyway—the place was silent, save for the sigh she let out; after being convinced by Will to go out and enjoy her last night, Grace went off to find Campbell while Jack took him back to the bar they found. It was just as well; the time alone gave Karen some time to think, to sort everything out.

A few months ago, she had considered divorce. She hadn't gone into it lightly, but as quickly as the notion came into her head, Stanley made up for any doubt she had in her mind. But this rediscovered honeymoon phase didn't last long, and now Karen felt as though she ended up exactly where she started. He had asked her to come with them to Scarsdale so his kids could see their mom, like he always did. And she declined, like she always did. The environment would have been a hostile one if she tagged along, and she didn't want that for Olivia and Mason. Only this time, there was more behind her rejection. If she had some time apart from him, she'd be able to clear her head, and maybe figure out how to bring back the honeymoon phase.

She just didn't realize she'd grow stronger in her negative convictions.

She had watched Grace interact with Campbell, she had seen her longing to be with him when she thought she had a duty to Will. And she desperately wanted that again. Karen will admit that in some respects, she hasn't been the perfect wife. But Stan's hands weren't clean, either. And where she felt she was trying to salvage whatever pieces they had left, he didn't seem to notice what went missing. She could predict exactly what was going to happen; in a few days, when these thoughts of their failing relationship have truly begun to marinade, he'll sweep her off her feet with a romantic dinner, an evening alone. An "I love you." And she would savor every moment, all the while waiting for the next thing to turn sour.

The cycle made her dizzy, and all she wanted to do was to break it somehow.

"I thought I was the only one here."

Karen jumped at the sound of another voice and looked on as Will came down from the staircase. "God," she said in a faltering voice. "Honey, you scared the hell out of me." She sat up in order to give him room to sit down. "There's still wine in the fridge, if you want some." She watched as he grabbed a glass and took the bottle from the kitchen to the couch. "I thought you went out with Jack."

"No, I didn't really want to watch Jack try to pick up the bartender…again."

Her laugh was a little stifled but it was there. It was supposed to be Will's weekend, but she knew Jack wouldn't be able to resist. And he wasn't looked down upon for it. It was part of what made him who he was; how could he be faulted for it?

Will looked at her with warm brown eyes. "Anyway, after going over my relationship and lack thereof in scathing detail with Grace, I didn't really have much energy to go out afterwards." He poured some wine into his glass before filling Karen's. Something was weighing heavy on her mind, he could tell. "Is everything okay?"

She gave him a half-smile. "I don't think it would interest you even if it weren't."

"Try me."

Funny; this mini vacation was supposed to be for him, to make him feel better about things, and it was almost as if he was trying to cheer her up. Had he always been this selfless?

"It's nothing, really…the thoughts I had about my marriage a few months ago just haven't necessarily disappeared. We've already been through this, it's nothing you haven't heard. Anyway, this weekend isn't about me."

"Please. I am so sick of talking about me. Grace had me at the table for close to two hours before I convinced her to finally go out and find that guy she was hiding from me. I know she was doing it because she felt like she had to be here for me, but she shouldn't sacrifice her own happiness. Let me know what's going on, Karen. You came to me before with this."

"Honey, if I went to you every time I felt this way, it would get real old real quick." She tried to laugh, but it fell flat, her eyes marred by a desolate sadness. "So I'm lost again. What else is new?"

"Karen…you are a terribly confusing person." Not exactly the biggest compliment in the world, but she could feel that there was love there. "You're more complex than I think you let people believe you are. All you need is someone who gets that. Maybe Stan does get that, maybe he doesn't. Hell, I don't even know if I get it most of the time. But if you're looking for someone who's willing to try, I'm here for a drink, a dinner, even a phone call. You're not as alone as you may think."

She had originally seen him as someone who was always there, whether she wanted to see him or not. It came with working for Grace; it should have been in the interview—"What do you consider your strengths in the workplace? And do you mind the constant presence of my best friend?" She never once considered that he could be any form of a friend to her. And now she was wondering why she never thought of him that way before.

Karen wrapped her arms around him in a hug and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, a thank you for his peace offering. The way his arms felt around her waist, his hands crawling to her back to meet, was something she had only experienced a number of times with the few people she had ever fallen hard for. She couldn't remember feeling it with Stan; if she did, it had been so long ago that it was wiped from her memory.

It was impulse. Sheer impulse…the way her lips brushed against his. He didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. It only ended when she stopped, as she realized what she was doing. "Oh god," she said, wincing at her actions. "I'm sorry, I…" But she couldn't finish her apology.

His lips got in the way, returning the favor.

And if it weren't for the knock on the door and someone struggling with the door knob, she wouldn't have stopped it.

"Anyone home? I don't have a key. Karen?" Grace's voice, such an unwelcome shock back into reality. Will got up to open the door for her. "I thought Jack took you out," she said, breathless from the cold as she kissed Will on the cheek. The same cheek where Karen's lips had been a few moments earlier. Grace's skin was chilly as she took his hand in hers. "Are you here by yourself?"

"No, I…" He looked at the couch.

Karen was gone.

A few moments later, she walked down the staircase. "Grace, honey, what are you doing here? Where's loverboy?" Will looked at her in disbelief. She was acting as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't turned into a softer person before. They didn't talk about the kiss for the rest of the night.

What Will didn't know was that in the time he was with Grace, Karen dashed upstairs to the bathroom and took a few moments to breathe before making the decision to save face, to try to make it as normal as possible between them in Grace's presence.

Because if she was going down, she was not about to take Will down with her.


	3. Meet Me in the Dark

_March 1999_

"Grace left a few minutes ago, honey. She'll be back soon."

It wasn't spoken in a "We're all alone, so let's make the best of it while we still can" way. It was more of a "You're here every day, so I just thought I'd let you know that you may have to wait a little bit" way. Without Grace here, he only had two options: Dive right in and hash it out, or stay silent, don't speak even when spoken to. He stood in the doorway to find Karen's back towards him in her desk chair. It would be easier not to look her in the eye. Maybe he could just stay here and say everything he couldn't the other day. It had been a couple of days since they came back from Vermont, and they had managed to avoid each other until now. And if he could just get everything out without having to look at her, it would be so much easier.

Then again, it would be easier to just leave now. But Karen acknowledged him; he wasn't about to leave now.

"So, are we going to talk about it?" Will said it softly as he made his way to the front of Karen's desk, daring to face her as he initiated the conversation.

She didn't play dumb; he could tell that she was ready to get the conversation over with, too. "There's nothing to talk about," she said. "I slipped. It's done. Let it go."

"It went both ways, you know."

He didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. In all honesty, he didn't mean to be so hurt by it. Why couldn't he just shrug it off like Karen can so easily do? It had been on his mind for the last two days, but he had merely chalked it up to guilt for taking advantage of the situation. They had brought him up to the cabin out of sympathy. He was already beating himself up over his failed relationship with Michael. She had reservations about her own relationship. She made the first move. But he kept it going when he probably shouldn't have.

And now being hurt by Karen's indifference. He couldn't understand it.

"So we both slipped. Let it go." She was more insistent this time, but started backing down. "I had a lot on my mind that night. I didn't mean to drag you into it."

"It wasn't such a bad thing." A light in Karen's eyes began to shine, even though it was dim. But it was there. And it made him smile. "Maybe we should set something up so we can really talk, instead of looking over our shoulders every three seconds to see if Grace is coming back. Do you want to meet me at that little café on Tenth tonight?"

"I don't know if we should."

"That's not what I asked." He knelt down to Karen's level. "You're human, your own person. Don't think about what you should do, don't think about what's expected of you. Think about what you want to do."

Footsteps.

Grace.

Hurry up, Will. Don't let on.

"Just think about it. I'll be there either way," he whispered as Grace walked through the door.

"Hey, sweetie!" Grace exclaimed as soon as she saw Will. "Ready to go to lunch?" Will watched as she walked to the other side of the room and drop the things she had in her arms before making a move to leave once again. Will wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her out the door.

And Karen suddenly, unexpectedly, felt a pang of jealousy.

* * *

As soon as she started walking through the Village in the evening, she completely understood why he seemed so attracted to it. Far from the neon lights and the constant cacophony of the midtown-Times Square nightlife, the streets still had a buzz about them, but they seemed to blend in with the serene atmosphere. It was a part of the city that, were it not for the constant run of taxis and people walking home at all hours of the night, you could almost forget that you even lived in Manhattan. She loved it.

She was trying to figure out why she never spent more time here. Among other things.

Karen hadn't been able to stop thinking about their last night in Vermont. Maybe it was because he was something different. She had been so used to Stan, the way he did things, the way he said things, the way he tried to express his love for her. And for Will to react the way he did to her—was it even accidental? Come on, Karen, you knew what you wanted—kiss…it intrigued her. It made her want more.

And then it immediately made her feel horrible. But then again…

She wanted something to break the cycle. This could be it. And if Will was as wrapped up in his ex as everyone expected him to be, he would not have kissed her back. He would not be so willing to meet with her again.

Right?

When she reached the café, she could see the back of his head through the window. Karen walked in and took the seat across from him. Will gave her a look of surprise. "You actually came," he said. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up. Do you want me to get you something? Coffee?"

Karen shook her head. "Maybe later." She let out a sigh. "Look, I'm just going to let this out now, and you can do with it what you will once I'm finished. The other night in the cabin…I meant what I did. I may have been influenced by my own problems and I may have told you I just slipped. But I meant what I did. And I don't know what that means, or what you want to do with that, or even what I want to do with that. All I know is that I needed to feel something. And when we kissed, it was exciting. But if we were to continue…whatever it is we have going on, there's no way we could make this work in public." Karen looked down at the table when she was finished.

Silence.

"Maybe that's part of the fun."

Karen's hazel eyes darted from the wooden table to his brown ones, willing him to continue.

"I'm just as confused as you are…granted, for different reasons, but it's still there. I can't help how I feel. And all I've been thinking since we got home from Vermont was how I just wanted to spend more time with you. Whatever that may mean. I'm not saying we should jump into anything romantic. I'm not going to ask you to bed after this. But I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. So if you need another ear, whatever, that's okay. Let's just figure this out and see where we go from here."

Will rested his hand on top of hers. The warmth of his skin made her relax in her seat, and she smiled. She had no idea what she was expecting of this evening, but she didn't think they would be so civil about it. It was never in their nature before. It was nice. "I, um…I think I'll take that coffee now."

She started to rise from her chair before Will stopped her. "I'll get it," he said. In all the times she had gone out like this with Stan—it wasn't often lately—she couldn't remember the last time he had offered to get her order for her. Whatever it was she and Will were trying out, it was certainly working immediately.

Before Will left, he took her hand and kissed the palm softly, his lips just gracing her flesh.

And even that felt so right.


	4. Attempts at Escapism

_May 2000: Will_

If I knew where we were headed, I would have played it like you originally intended. It was a slip, a lapse of judgement. Two lonely people in a lonely predicament, grasping at something that lets them know that they have someone other than themselves. And once that was proven, everything could go back to the way it was. But you grabbed onto my curiosity and wouldn't let go.

I just wish I had something to show for it.

Nothing killed me more than leaving you in that hotel room on our last night together. But I knew I couldn't wake you up and tell you what happened. Because if I did, I knew you would disappear, like you always used to. Only this time, it would be for a different reason. And this time, I would have a front row seat to watch as you walked out the door. I thought it would hurt more to watch you go than to be the one to leave.

So I did.

It was my turn to disappear. I'm still not sure which option would have been better. If it would have saved you any anguish to leave me, instead of the other way around, then that's what should have happened, and I'm sorry that I was so selfish. I promised never to hurt you. And I probably ended up becoming the very thing you wanted to get away from.

You've got to understand. The night in Vermont hooked me. The night in that Village café reeled me in. And the moments after that gave me more than I ever would have thought to ask for. I never wanted to push you into doing anything you didn't want to do; after all, it's part of the reason you came to me in the first place, you told me one night. And I kept telling myself I didn't want to get in over my head. We were merely dipping our toes in the water, getting a feel for whatever our connection had morphed into. But then you pulled me down below the surface, with a smile on your face and the taste of my lips on yours from the kiss you gave me the second before. And I realized that once I was completely submerged, I liked it better below.

Which is why I never blamed you for disappearing into thin air in the beginning. You would agree to stay the night in my apartment, but at the first sign of intrusion from the outside, you vanished. We could have been caught, you kept telling me. It wasn't fair of you to out me when you were the one who was doing this as a form of escapism.

But as I kept telling you, it went both ways. You were escaping a bad marriage and thoughts of failure. I was escaping from the loneliness of my failed relationship that had kept me in such a hard shell, that it was nearly impossible for me to get out of. Until Vermont. Vermont broke through. Vermont let me see the light I had shunned for so long. Vermont led me to you, a piece of you that was so rarely seen.

And then what happened in the hotel, while you were sleeping, made me realize that I probably wasn't the only one you were showing it to. It made me realize that there was another life for you outside of the room, outside of our trysts. Outside of me and any affection I had for you. And even though I tried my hardest—you know how much I tried—to make everything easier, smoother, when you were with me, I realized that even lying next to me in bed was complicating your life that much more.

I wish you would answer your phone, so I could tell you that. I wish that I could explain myself, and try to make things right.

Hell, I just wish I could hear your voice again.

Once I had given up hope that I would ever hear you on the other end of the line, I found someone and I tried again. Alex. He was perfect. We read the same books, listened to the same music, had the same sense of humor. God, we even had the same job, so we could honestly relate to each other on just about every level. He told me he would take me out for coffee.

He ended up taking me to the same café I brought you to when we tried to talk out our kiss in the cabin. And I knew that all I would be able to focus on was the memory of you. I still tried with Alex, if how I acted when it came to him can be called trying, but I knew it was doomed. You were the only one I wanted.

I still do, Karen.

I knew I needed to get away, and I needed to do it now; on top of everything I had experienced with you, Grace's love life made it so that my personal life mixed with my work life, and any attempt to separate it would have been futile, even though I did try. It got to be too much. So I left a message for Grace and Jack to find, hoping they would, and hopped the first plane to the Virgin Islands, thinking that it would do the trick. And for a little while, it was exactly what I needed.

Until Ben figured out where I was. And I was sucked back into reality.

But at least the time before he found me gave me a few moments to think.

This is what I know: I love the way it feels when you smile against my skin. You looked softer around your eyes every time they locked with mine. Even though you knew I would try as often as possible to make you laugh, you would indulge me anyway, because you knew I loved to hear it. When you weaved your fingers with mine, I felt recharged, revived, alive. When you were fast asleep between the sheets in that hotel room, I wanted nothing more than to climb in with you. When you were fast asleep, I kissed you on the forehead and hoped to God—or whoever was listening at the time—that you would feel it and not shrug it off as a dream.

Closing the door behind me while you were still on the other side was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

When I look at the sunset here, I wish that you were here with me, so that I could take you in my arms and show you what life should be. I know you have probably been here thousands of times; business trips Stan has dragged you on, random vacations over the years. But it would be different with me. It would be like you're here for the first time.

I agreed to help Ben out with a client here for a few reasons. I knew I needed my job back, and although I knew he wanted me back, I might as well start kissing some ass now to make up for the way I left, and the way I handled my re-employment negotiations. But mainly, I did it to take my mind off of everything I left behind in Manhattan. If I had something to do here, besides merely reflecting on everything that's gone wrong, I'd be able to clear my head. I'd be able to come back refreshed.

I'd be able to go back to the way things were before the cabin trip was ever a thought in Grace's mind.

It hasn't worked yet.

But I'm hoping it will.

Until then, I've been playing out scenarios, ways that we could have ended differently. But they all come back to this, they all come back to now. I wonder where you are. I wonder what you're doing. I wonder if you will ever pick up the phone when I call, or even go one step further and be the one to dial.

If I knew where we were headed, I would have played it like you originally intended.

Oh god, that's such a lie.

When it comes to everything that happened before I left you, I don't regret a thing.


	5. April Fools

_April 1999_

When she dragged him in, when she finally dragged him in, he thought she was joking. Faking it. The first of the month brings out the childish fool in people, even when you think they're above it. And knowing her, she was incredibly capable of pulling something off. He didn't want to believe that he'd be the victim, but this different connection was so new that he wouldn't put it past her. Even though it started like all of their regular outings did—and there have been plenty more since the night in the café—he wouldn't put it past her.

Karen loved the Village in a way he had never seen anyone love anything else. He caught on quick, did his research on anywhere and everywhere he could take her. And when he told her they'd be going downtown for a few hours, her eyes lit up, shining brighter than the streetlights at night. It was a land she had never explored before; under any other circumstances, she would never have fit in. But with Will as a tour guide of sorts, she was able to navigate the streets, and the bookstores and coffeehouses along them, with ease. Her husband would have laughed at her if he knew; in his eyes, they were too good for the implied bohemian lifestyle that came along with living there. But she couldn't get enough of it.

Stan was working late tonight—would surely miss dinner with his wife—so Will took it upon himself to take her to his favorite restaurant in Little Italy before walking uptown to the Village. The weather took an unusually cool turn and he saw as Karen's body shivered for a fleeting moment. He wondered what would happen if he put his arm around her, how she would react. And before he could truly think it through, he felt his hand making contact with the too-thin fabric of her coat, his arm resting across her shoulders as he pulled her in to keep her warm. God, why did he do it? He couldn't retract; it would only make them talk about it, and if he stepped over any boundaries, he didn't want to talk about it.

Then he felt her arm wrap around his waist. And he knew it was okay.

"Oh, honey, can we stop here for a minute?"

Karen pointed with her free hand to the building in front of them, a small independent bookstore free of a well-known chain name. He didn't know whether it was an experiment in Bohemianism or a genuine desire to see this week's new releases; Will had never seen her read anything aside from _Vogue_. Regardless, he let an "Of course" slip from his lips and led her through the doors.

He stared in amazement for a moment at Karen's complete ease and compatibility with the place, with a selection for the well-read and a piano concerto playing softly through the store's speaker system. It was almost as if she was a regular inhabitant of the area, sauntering around the shelves and tables with no misstep. Soon enough, he started looking around himself, stopping near the end of the alphabet in the general fiction section. He picked up a paperback from John Updike and began to read the synopsis on the back.

"Updike exhausts me sometimes. It's not that I don't enjoy his work, it's just that somehow it takes me longer to get through it than usual."

"It's a journey to be sure," he started, responding to the voice behind him, "but it's definitely worth it." It took him a moment to realize who the voice actually belonged to. He turned his head to find Karen with a smile on her face. "That was you?" he asked in disbelief.

"Who else would it have been?"

Will noticed that she had something in her hands. When she saw that he was looking, Karen uncovered the front of the book. She had chosen a Virginia Woolf novel.

"_Mrs. Dalloway_?"

Karen looked at him. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, it's nothing. Just that…well, I kind of took you more for a _Valley of the Dolls_ type of person."

"Hey, I'll have you know that I'm a very well-read woman." She let a beat of silence go by before lowering her voice. "And _Valley of the Dolls_ was a very compelling story…"

She heard Will's laughter and knew that he was not laughing at her; she could tell that he was laughing at his own misconceptions, and she decided to join in. "You just keep surprising me, Karen," Will said with a chuckle still in his voice. Gently, he took the book out of her hands and held it with the Updike novel he planned to buy. "Let me get this one."

After he had paid for the two books, Karen wrapped her arms around his waist once again as he hailed a cab. "I'll have it drop you off at your place first," he said as the yellow car slowed to a stop.

"Well…what if I said I wanted to stay with you a little longer?"

Will grinned at her as they made their way inside the back of the cab, and they drove off for Riverside Drive.

The ride was silent, but nothing needed to be said. The way she leaned against him on the way to his apartment, a certain trust that had been granted to him. His response of his arm around her, his hand traveling up and down her arm softly. Her sigh, not of irritation, not of relief, but of security, safety. It was all the conversation they needed at the moment.

The cab slowed to a stop and they realized they had arrived at Will's building. He paid the driver and took Karen by the hand and led her to the elevator.

He didn't want to break the silence.

When the elevator doors opened and he unlocked his front door, Karen was the first to plow through the seemingly eternal silence they had created.

"Don't turn the lights on."

Perplexed, he did what she asked. Karen closed the door behind them. In the pitch dark, Will couldn't see a thing. But his eyes began to adjust to the darkness.

This is what he saw.

Karen taking the bag with their books out of his hands, tossing it onto the couch, making a plastic sound.

Karen moving in closer.

When he closed his eyes, he felt her lips pressed against his, with more intensity than he had ever felt. It wasn't like their kiss in Vermont. It wasn't like when he kissed her palm in the café. It wasn't like the countless times she kissed his cheek. It was almost as if she wanted him.

Will opened his eyes and saw Karen's smile. Watched her lips as she whispered slowly.

"Come with me."

He thought she was joking. Faking it.

But when she pulled him into the bedroom and shut the door, he knew this was for real.


	6. The Art of Deception

_April 1999_

The pitch black of her surroundings didn't deter her. She knew this place by heart, what lurked in every corner, every room. If she walked five steps forward, she could brush her knees against the coffee table which, when she had first moved in, she ran into while trying to make quiet late-night entrances. A little further, and she would hit the dining area where they would get together with their friends and knock back a few. To the right was the fireplace she stood in front of the first night she was moved in, taking a look at her surroundings and realizing for the first time that she would really be calling this place home.

Funny; she had only moved into this apartment months ago. And even though there were a few of her things occupied some of the general space, the only room that was solely hers was her bedroom, she still felt as if this had been her space for a long time.

Grace moved down the hallway until she reached his bedroom door. That's odd; the door's closed. In the time she lived with him, she could only count on one hand the number of times this room was closed off to her. That wasn't the way they were; it wasn't the way things worked between them. If they had limits, they were nowhere to be found. What was Grace's was Will's, and vice versa. She never expected that to change anytime soon. She tried the door knob only to discover that it was locked.

He stirred slightly at the sound of footsteps, but only opened his eyes when he heard someone trying to open the door. He looked at the sleeping beauty beside him, and hoped that she wouldn't awaken; she looked too peaceful to be disturbed. Whoever was on the other side of the door tried the knob again. Will watched as her face scrunched up in annoyance, and immediately felt a sort of anger towards the intruder. She would have settled back into a serene sleep if it hadn't have been for the knocking.

Her eyes fluttered open and wearily locked with his. She made the effort to prop herself up on her elbows as she looked towards the door, the crimson sheets of the bed carefully wrapped around her skin. "What's going on?" she asked softly.

"I don't know," he whispered back. They heard the knock again, this time accompanied with a voice.

"Will? Are you sleeping?"

Damn it. He sensed trouble when he heard the footsteps getting closer. But in all honesty, he thought they were safe. It was nighttime, it was quiet. Despite the fact that this was Manhattan, there was a sense of peace that should not be disturbed. He thought she would merely walk to her room and go to bed. Come on, Will, this is Grace we're talking about. You were foolish to let that thought cross your mind. You should have known that she'd knock on the door.

"Grace, what are you doing? It's late, go to bed."

He grabbed the hand next to him, reassurance that it would be okay. "She'll be gone soon, I promise," he whispered. He felt her nod against his skin, as he wrapped his arms around the body next to him. God, this was only the beginning; he didn't think he'd feel so much like a tawdry adulterer so early on. Although, given the circumstances, maybe he should. It was greed, on some level. When he could have come to his senses and made sure Karen got home safely and under no suspicion whatsoever, he gladly took her home with him, wanting so desperately to fill all the time he could with her. The thought of someone intruding on them had honestly never crossed his mind. Until now.

"I just wanted to say goodnight. Can I come in?"

Quick. Say something. Anything. "Tell her you're sick," she whispered beside him, offering him a way out. If anything, it made him want her more for trying to help him out of a sticky situation.

"Grace, I'm really not feeling well. Can we talk in the morning?"

Silence.

"Yeah, okay. Feel better. See you in the morning." Her footsteps made their way across the hall and he heard Grace's bedroom door shut gently behind her.

Beside him, Karen let out a huge sigh. She had just made love to a man who was not her husband; even waking from her sleep, she could still feel where he had been moments before. She let him kiss her skin, slide his hands along her curves, touch her in a way she had never been touched before. She loved it. She was on top of the world. And then Grace came home. And she realized what she was doing.

And even if she wanted it to happen, there was no way she could wake up with him in the morning and leave without anyone knowing what they had done. Karen's perception of Will had changed dramatically in the last couple of weeks; if you had told her last month that she would end up in bed with her boss' best friend, she would have laughed in your face. But to know his touch, the way he says your name at night, everything about it makes perfect sense. She only wished she wouldn't have to be so secretive. She had been told so many times that deception is the basis for destruction when it comes to anyone you hold dear. But they must have been too naïve to realize the exception.

"I am so sorry about that," Will murmured in a sleep-heavy tone as he lay back down next to her. "I didn't think she would bother if the door was shut."

She brushed her hand against his cheek and gave him a weary smile. "It's not your fault. I think we both knew it was a possibility, even if we didn't want to admit it." She waited a few minutes—she told herself it was to make sure that Grace wouldn't come back out of her room, but she merely wanted to get a better sense of his touch—and got up. The look on his face made her lose her nerve to let him down. "I just need to use the bathroom," she said, the best excuse she could cook up. "I'll be quiet, I swear." When he nodded, she made her way towards the door. Looking back, she saw that his back was turned, and she quickly picked her dress and shoes off of the floor without him knowing. She slipped into her clothes in the living room and put on her heels in the hallway after she left the apartment.

Will had fallen asleep waiting for her.

When Karen got home, she changed into her nightgown and walked into the bedroom where Stan was sleeping. She climbed into bed beside him, hoping she wouldn't wake him.

"Where were you?" Damn it.

Stan stirred beside her, turned to face her, and opened his eyes slightly. "When did you come to bed?" he asked. She realized his drowsiness resulted in a state to believe anything. And she took advantage.

"A little after you did. I just went to the bathroom."

The answer seemed to satisfy him as he turned his back towards her and fell back asleep. Karen settled in beside him, eyes wide open. How could she sleep soundly when this was nowhere near what she wanted for herself tonight? She wondered how long it took for Will to realize she was gone. Maybe he didn't know yet. Maybe he had fallen asleep. Maybe he was in for a rude awakening in the morning. She couldn't deal with herself. She wanted to run back to Will's apartment, slip back into bed beside him, and ride out whatever came in the morning with him. But she knew she couldn't.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, an apology to Will that he would never hear.


	7. Whatever Time We Have

_April 1999_

She looked down at the pack of cigarettes lying on her desk. Opened it up, slid one up and ran her finger along it. She didn't do it often, it was just a way to allow a bit of relaxation when she desperately needed it, but ever since last night, it was all she wanted to do. Racked with guilt, Karen had no idea how to approach Will if he didn't do it first, or if to do so at all. How do you explain yourself after something like that? "Last night was amazing, but I had to get out of there as soon as possible." It wouldn't work.

It wasn't like she wanted to leave last night. But in all honesty, what else could she have done?

The sound of something slamming down on her desk jerked her back into reality. Karen looked to find her copy of _Mrs. Dalloway_ from last night, instantly bringing her back to their comfort together in the bookstore. The way his arm felt around her shoulders. She had completely forgotten about the book itself until now; it wasn't necessarily the highest thing on her list.

"You forgot this."

She couldn't tell whether Will's voice was cold towards her, or towards himself. On some level, he had to have known that they never could have spent the entire night, and into the morning, together. But that element of common sense was overshadowed by the mountain of disappointment she knew she caused. She wasn't ready to look him in the eye. Not yet. "Where's Grace?" she heard him ask.

"Meeting with a client uptown. It's a major one, so if you're waiting for her, it's going to take a while." She could hear him walking around the room, no real destination in mind. Maybe he was just as lost as she was. "Hey…" she said softly, trying to get his attention. She could feel his eyes on her. "I'm sorry. For last night. I should have been straightforward and at least told you what I was doing, if I wasn't going to stay the night."

"Don't be. We both had an idea of what would happen."

"But I shouldn't have left like that."

Will brought Grace's desk chair over to the other side of the room, sat it beside Karen's and took a seat. She still wouldn't look at him, when all he wanted to see were the hazel eyes she hid. He saw her hands folded in her lap and took a hold of one of them. There we go. That was the trick. Karen looked into his eyes slowly, sadly, and he could see the darkness of her guilt, her regret. "You know, when I woke up this morning, I could have sworn for a moment that you were beside me. I felt it against my skin. But when I turned to face your side of the bed, I realized it was only the sheets you had tossed to the side before you left."

"God, Will, you're killing me." The last thing she wanted to hear was this, how he was set up for disappointment when he woke up to find that she had fled the scene of the crime. "If you're trying to make me feel like the worst person on Earth, you're wasting your time. I already made myself out to be horrible as soon as I got to your elevator." Karen turned her gaze back to her lap after she said that, only to find herself half submerged in a guilt so thick, kicking to get out of it would only make her sink deeper.

"That's not what I'm trying to do. I just want to make sense of what happened last night. We finally had it. Look, it might have been because deep down I wanted it all along, but I could have sworn that it felt like you wanted it too. I just wanted to make sure I didn't force anything on you, that you wanted it too."

"Of course I wanted it. I'm the one who dragged you there in the first place. I just knew that I had to go, and I couldn't just say goodbye to your face. Not after we just exposed everything we had to each other. I'm not so much worried about Grace and Jack; I could care less what they think, even though I know you do. It's not even so much Stan; I know he's my husband, but he's just so damn oblivious sometimes, I could tell him that I was in a different wing of the house all night and he'd believe me. But Stan's got kids, Will. If I come walking in the next morning in the same clothes I wore yesterday, and they see me, they will not let go of it. They'll ask questions, it'll somehow get back to Stan. You know how kids are, honey. They have no reservations. I would have loved nothing more than to stay with you last night, but I knew that it would never happen without some strong consequences. So I left. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I already know that I did."

"You didn't hurt me." It was all he could think to say; he couldn't make anything else come out.

"Then what's going on here, Will? There's darkness in your eyes and sadness in your voice. Tell-tale signs of pain, believe me."

"It's not you. Last night made me realize that whatever we try to do would never go perfectly, would never go as either of us may have hoped."

Silence.

"But that doesn't mean I don't want to try anyway."

"I'm only going to let you down."

"Look at me," he said softly. And when she wouldn't, he lifted her chin gently so he could see her eyes. "You surprise me, you stun me, at times you even confuse me." It wasn't a critique; she could tell by the smile on his face. "But as long as we do this—hell, as long as I know you—you will never let me down. I understand why you left. And if being with you means that I can't spend as much time with you as I would like, then it's okay. As long as I'm with you at all."

There it was. The light in her eyes slowly came back until it filled the room. "I can't remember the last time someone's said that to me." She freed her hand from his hold and wrapped her arms around his neck. When he pulled her in, Karen could feel the warmth of his body against hers, and it was as if they fit together seamlessly. It was the same feeling she had last night, when he saw her at her most bare and treated her with such delicacy and beauty.

But she could tell he was worried about Grace walking in at any moment.

"She left not too long ago," she reassured him. "She'll be gone for a long time." Karen rose from her seat and took Will by the hand. "Come here."

She led them to the back, the swatch room, all the while feeling Will's lips pressing against hers and his fingers crawling up her back. In here, hidden in the darkness, in between the fabric, there was a certain sense of security. And he completely let go of any of his reservations. He unbuttoned her blouse one at a time before he slipped it off her shoulders.

All Will could think was how he almost didn't show up today. He woke up to find that he was alone, walked out to see if Karen had made her way into the living room, and found the books they had tossed aside the night before. And he thought that maybe he shouldn't be so sentimental with this little piece of their evening together. It took him until the last minute to gather up the courage to make his way to Grace Adler Designs today.

And he was so glad he did.

Because it didn't matter how long they had.

What mattered was that even in the dark, he could see her smile, and feel it against his skin.


	8. Good Intentions

_May 2000: Karen_

While we were on the plane, Stan looked at the book I was reading and asked me why I was still hanging on to it. I don't know why he decided to choose that moment to ask. He had done it before, but always in the privacy of our own home—I don't know if it was for fear that I was keeping it for some sentimental reason that he wasn't privy to, leading to another one of our patented arguments. But he picked our plane ride to open this up again.

I could feel his eyes on the book. The spine is cracked, the cover is worn and creased. He's offered several times to buy me a new copy; his reasoning was that since it seemed to be one of my favorites—seemed to be, that's how he put it, like he didn't know for certain—I might as well have a copy that isn't liable to fall apart the next time I open it. But every time he asks, I turn his offer down. He could ask a thousand times over, and I would never give this up. At first I pretended not to hear him. But he wouldn't let up.

"Why do you still have this thing? You know I'll get you a new, clean copy if you wanted me to."

"What does it matter to you?" I threw back. It may have been a little harsh, but if you only knew how many times I had heard him talk about the damn book, you would get a little testy too.

"It was just a question. Give me a break Karen, I thought I was doing something nice for you."

"I'd like to keep this, if it's alright with you. I have my reasons."

"Which are?"

"Does it really matter? I don't have to explain myself to you, Stan."

True, I've read this copy of _Mrs. Dalloway_ countless times in the past year. I know these characters inside and out, I know their words as well, if not better, than I know my own. But because you've touched this copy, because you took it in your hands, because you gave it to me, I can never let it go.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if you had never made your way to the office that first morning after, to give me back the book. I probably would have shrugged you off, eventually. We probably would have gone back to the way we were before that fated weekend in my cabin. You probably would have found someone else, someone with no strings attached, with whom you could have spent as much time as you wanted; you really needed that, and it was one of my many downfalls. I probably wouldn't be thinking of you right now, when I'm supposed to be taking a vacation from everything that's troubling me in the real world.

Although, that is probably a lie.

I keep wondering what I could have done to keep us going. Anything that would have given you more incentive to stay just a little while longer. Maybe if I wasn't so attracted to the darkness. In all honesty, it was easier to make a clean getaway if need be. In the dark, I'd be able to slip away and not see the disappointment in your face as I did it. In the dark, you might not even notice until I'm long gone. And I wanted to keep it that way. I knew I would never be able to handle a true goodbye. We both wanted to stay exactly where we were; it wouldn't have helped if I announced my departure.

But maybe if I had left things differently each time I needed to make my journey back—I can't call it home, because we both know home is the space in your arms where I fit perfectly—it would have been more honest, and the added honesty would have sparked a little more longevity. The only thing is I keep going through a laundry list of ways I could have made a graceful exit: a soft "I'll see you soon," a promise to come back tomorrow night, no words but a sweet kiss on your lips that tastes like good intentions, even a note I scribble on a sheet of paper for you to find in the morning. And none of these endings make me think that we would have had a better chance.

I swear, Will. I only had the best of intentions. In my exits, in my actions, in the things I said and the way I said them. I really tried with you. That's not to say I haven't tried before. The ones before you who I've truly been in love with had seen that side of me. Early on, Stan had even seen that side of me; I know I've joked about marrying for the money, but there was a time where I not only tried, but he tried as well. But it has been years since I even felt like trying. And I knew that if you got it out of me, you were not just a passing fling. Which is why I tried to make everything count.

I just hope it did.

Everything I did was based on good intentions. And I honestly thought that our time alone while Stan was on his business trips would do us some good. We didn't have to hide. We didn't have to be afraid. I didn't have to listen for footsteps or foreign voices. We had uninterrupted time to ourselves to be what we always wanted to be but knew we most likely never could be.

A couple.

He would go to Berlin, Paris, Beijing. We would go to the coffeehouse, the bookstore, the guest bedroom. Only this time, I wouldn't have to disappear. I wouldn't have to vanish into thin air. But you were so cute, so sweet, that first night. You brushed it off and said that it wasn't, but I could tell by your touch that it was. The way you wrapped your arms around me before you drifted off to sleep. It was an attempt to make sure I wouldn't vanish; if you had a hold on me, I wouldn't be able to leave, even though there was nothing standing in our way. But you didn't count on one thing.

I didn't want to go.

After that first trip, I longed for him to go off again, anywhere, everywhere. So long as it meant I got more time with you. Maybe we were spoiled, having so many days to ourselves, when we knew we would have to go back to normal—whatever we defined normal to be back then—in a matter of moments. But I didn't care. To feel your skin against mine as the sun rose, to see your smile as I opened my eyes; that first night, into the morning after, was when I knew. I loved you. I just didn't want to be the first to admit it, for fear of rejection, for fear of your interpretation of what we were doing as merely sex.

What am I doing? Using past tense? Loved you? That isn't right.

I still do love you.

But you know what? Maybe I was the one that caused our demise. Let's face it.

I'm the one who enabled this addiction to his flowing time we had with each other.

I'm the one who said you should stay with me.

I'm the one who tried to make it all right.

We never stood a chance, though, I see that now. I should have known. Eventually, you just couldn't get used to the fact that we'd have to go back to sneaking around in the dark. You wanted me to be around more than I knew I could. And maybe you couldn't take it anymore. I honestly don't blame you.

I couldn't stand the fact that we had to scale back, either.

I'm probably the one who caused our demise.

But I swear to god, I had good intentions.


	9. I'm Saving You, Fraülein

_July 1999_

The first time she ever went to Berlin was with Stan before they were married, and the only souvenir she brought back with her was a nickname. He had to fly to Germany on business and convinced Karen to come along with him; she could explore the city while he was working, and they could spend some quality time with each other when he wasn't. They were in Berlin for two weeks, and the only German Stan had managed to pick up was "Fraülein"—a word someone would use to address a young woman, or an unmarried one.

For a long time, it was the only thing he called her.

He used it as a term of endearment, and she absolutely loved it. In the time before they were married, she was always his Fraülein: "Fraülein, you're all I want," "Fraülein, let me take you out on a night on the town," "I love you so much, my Fraülein." Stanley Walker was never an expert at expressing his feelings towards the one he's devoted to, but you could always feel the love hidden in each syllable of the word. She almost expected him to call her that when he proposed, but she knew a moment like that was too big for such a playful and familiar name. Even after they were married and the name would have been considered ridiculous in the land in which he learned it, he still whispered it in her ear. Karen never wanted him to stop.

About a year into their marriage, he started using it less and less. At the two year point, he stopped using it altogether. At two and a half years, she finally noticed it. The nickname was the first of the line of things she had loved that, little by little, he had stopped doing.

And like every souvenir's eventual fate, it was stored away, collecting dust and never seeing the light of day again.

When Stan had told her a month ago that he would have to fly to Berlin on business soon and she should come with him ("The kids will be in Scarsdale with their mother; there's no point for you to be cooped up in here all alone," he had said), she told him she'd think about it, then proceeded to forget about it an hour later; she was to meet Will at their favorite coffeehouse—god, it felt so great to have a spot that they could consider "theirs"—soon and her mind was solely focused on the fact that soon she would be in his arms.

The night before he was supposed to get on a plane, he managed to catch her attention before he went to bed. "You know, you never told me if you were coming to Berlin with me or not. I bought a plane ticket for you just in case. That's not me trying to guilt you into coming, I could care less about wasting the money. I just want you to know that it's still an option."

She looked at him with a blank stare and spoke to him in a flat voice. "I don't think I'm going to come along this time," she said, breaking the cycle. Every time she was asked to accompany him on these trips, she agreed. He wasn't expecting to make this trip on his own.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm off to bed. I have to get up early to catch my flight, so if I don't see you, be safe while I'm gone."

Be safe while I'm gone. Like she was a child being left alone for the first time while her parents decided to go out. "You too," she replied as he started to make his way to the bedroom. "Call me on my cell phone when you land."

She knew he wouldn't, either because he forgot or because he didn't want to bother.

The next morning she awoke to find that the sun rose and her husband was long gone, up in the air towards a foreign land she should have seen with him. But instead of thinking about that, she reached for the phone on the nightstand next to her and dialed, hoping she wouldn't get Grace on the other end.

"Funny…I just dreamed of you a moment ago."

Karen lit up as soon as she heard Will's voice, still heavy with sleep. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

"No, you're fine. Hi." She could hear the smile in his voice.

"Hi." Karen stopped for a minute. "So, you know how you told me to pick where I wanted you to take me tonight?"

"Did you figure it out yet?"

"I still think you should surprise me about where we go for starters, but I definitely know where I'd like to end up. Do you think you could pack a little suitcase and pick me up at my house? You can drop your stuff here."

"What about Stan? Don't you think that's a little risky?"

"Honey, I'll take care of Stan. Just come by tonight, okay?"

When she heard his knock against her front door in the evening, she rushed to open it. Karen found him fidgeting ever so slightly, worried about being caught. She knew what he was thinking; this is too close to our real lives, he's going to see. He's going to see it and it's going to be over. She couldn't help but let out a giggle, however suppressed; she didn't want him to feel bad.

"Will, would you stop fretting? He's not here."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, he left this morning for a plane to Berlin, and even though he didn't call like he said he would, I figure he's in Germany right now. So yes. I'm sure." She couldn't help but let a smile creep onto her face. "And I figured maybe you'd want to stay here. He'll be gone for two weeks. The kids are with their mom. And Grace is completely preoccupied, not only with those major clients, but with trying to find an apartment of her own. She won't even notice you're not at your place."

Will smiled at her. "You had me at 'he left this morning.' Of course I want to stay here with you."

He brushed his lips against hers as she led him upstairs to a guest bedroom—she couldn't use the one she shares with Stan, it wouldn't be fair. She took his suitcase from his grip and rested it against the nightstand next to the bed. When she turned around, she saw a look from Will she had only seen in the dark. "What?" she said playfully.

"Nothing. I made reservations for dinner tonight…but right now, all I know is that I wouldn't mind it if we missed them."

He made a dash for her and she let out a sound of surprise and a laugh as they hit the mattress with a bounce. She loved the way he moved his hands along her body. His fingers knew her curves in a way she had thought only came with years, not with months. But she always knew he could prove her wrong in the best ways. When she felt his lips pull away from her skin, she looked at him as he brushed her hair away from her face.

"I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that your two weeks with me beats two weeks in Berlin. I know you; if you were alone here, you would only go over all the things that are wrong in your world. I'm saving you, Fraülein, from yourself."

She skipped a beat when she heard that. God, it's been years since anyone had called her that. If Will hadn't have said it, she probably could have forgotten all about it. And she knew he had no clue what that word held for her; there was no way, if she had remembered, it would have been significant enough to tell him so randomly, even though they had grown closer and more intimate by the minute. But as his lips returned to her flesh, she realized she wasn't upset; that was the thing. She wasn't sad, she wasn't angry. She wasn't distracted by the memory of what once was.

She was marveling at how beautiful, how sweet, how good that word sounded coming from his lips.


	10. Reality As a Dream

_July 1999_

"I told you it doesn't concern you. You've got too much to worry about already. Check me off the list."

She woke up to the sounds of his voice, low, trying to get rid of whoever was on the other end of his cell phone. Her eyes fought to keep open; when she finally fell asleep, it was during the early hours of the morning when the sun still has a few hours to rest before its debut. How could she sleep when so much was going on beside her? He had never dared to get close to her at night after they made love; it would have only crushed the spirit more to have her in his arms before she had to disappear. But last night…that was different.

Last night, she felt his lips on her neck and his hair through her fingers. Last night, she felt peace in his touch and warmth in his voice. Last night, she felt his arms wrap around her waist before he fell asleep. His fingers spread out across her stomach as he pulled her into him and she rested her back against his torso. Karen had let out a soft laugh and said, "You know I'm not going to walk out on you."

"I know," he had whispered in reply. "I just wanted to know what it felt like to hold you through the night." That's when he said it. Slow, like someone who was never too sure in their convictions to begin with. Almost scared, like a young child asking for something and fearing any negative repercussions. But sweet, like that one song out of a million that can touch your heart like no other.

"I think…" he had started. "I think I'm falling for you." In all the time they had spent together the past few months, neither of them had ever alluded to the fact of being in love. But she just assumed they already knew where they stood with each other. She could have sworn he knew that she felt the same, and she couldn't tell whether his trepidation was for fear of rejection or fear of breaking some sort of unspoken rule. Will had to have waited until her back was turned so he wouldn't have to see the look on her face if she didn't feel the same way, it had to have been premeditated.

She had twisted around in his grip so she could face him, graced her fingers along his jaw line and gave him a smile. "So come join me on the ground. I've been down here looking up at you the entire time, waiting for you to fall like I have."

He had pulled her in after that, and she could feel his heart beating as he let sleep take a hold of him.

When she woke up this morning, her eyes didn't immediately fall onto his. But other than that, it was exactly like how she used to dream it. For a moment, Karen almost expected to wake up and find herself lying next to Stan, hoping she didn't jerk into reality too hard to require an explanation. But then she felt the sheets draped around her. And she knew that this was real.

"Does it matter whether I came home last night? And what are you doing calling my work to see if I'm there? You know it's my day off. You're not my mother. I don't have to explain myself to you."

She sat up in bed and let the covers fall around her, trying to figure out where he went off to. His voice was so faint but she could still make out everything he was saying. She willed him to keep talking, so she could follow the trail of his voice.

"No. Please don't get upset. I'm sorry I said that. I know you were worried, but I'm fine. It's all okay. I was safe last night…I was just out, that's all. I went out, I stayed out…yes, with someone else. I didn't come home last night. That doesn't mean you should worry about me though."

Karen could still feel his embrace around her body, fresh even after it happened. And as she rose from the bed and slipped a robe on, she wondered whether or not she could keep that feeling longer if she tied the sash around her waist tight enough. She found Will with his back towards her on the balcony the guest bedroom led to. God, all she wanted to do was go out there and feel the New York sun on her face as she greeted the morning with him. But she didn't want to disturb him while he was talking to…who was he talking to?

"Grace, come on. Don't be like this. You have so many other things to focus on. This is so trivial."

Damn it.

On some level she knew. It had to have been Grace. No one else would have called him so early in the morning just to see where he is. It was Will's own life and he didn't have anyone to answer to but himself. That's a given, not just for him, but for everyone. But if Grace isn't let in on a part of his life, she doesn't know what to do. If it's something secretive, it must be bad. If he won't talk about it, it has to be dire. So many conclusions she's jumped until she's breathless and realizes what is actually happening isn't nearly as bad as what she cooked up in her mind. Normally, even though Karen joked about it, it was actually endearing and cute, the way Grace wanted to make sure that Will was happy.

Right now, it was a pain in the ass.

Poking this little bubble they put themselves in, seeing how long it would take before it broke.

"No, I'm not going to tell you who I was with. Focus on your work. Focus on finding an apartment. Anything but me. Please."

God, she could be so insistent. And she knew she wasn't the only one thinking it right now.

"Grace, I've got to go. I'll see you later." Karen watched as Will pulled the phone away from his ear and made his way inside. He didn't realize Karen was out of bed until he looked over at the empty mattress. He found her on the other side of the room. "Hi," he said with a smile. "You heard that, didn't you?"

"I tried not to." She gave him a smile back, but by the time his gaze fell to his feet, he wasn't able to see it. "Don't worry about it. Don't let this ruin our time. It doesn't have to." Karen walked over to him, took the phone out of his hands and put it on the dresser before taking his hands in hers. "I don't care. I don't care what you have to say to them or when you have to say it. I don't care what they think. I care about you. I care that we have two weeks alone together. I care that you want to be here."

"Of course I want to be here, Karen. I love you."

He had alluded to it last night, they both did. But they never actually said those three words, strung together to make such a simple sentence, holding such a massive impact.

"I love you too, Will."

The words were spoken softly, but with more meaning than he had ever heard anyone say them at any other time. Her eyes…god, those hazel eyes. They held so much light as she said that. "You know what?" he said. "That phone call never happened. Now come here." He took her by the hand and led her out on the balcony. "Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

The sun shone down on their part of Manhattan in a way she hadn't seen before, actually making the streets glow with a light she had never thought could come naturally. But she wasn't focused on that. She was focused on the way Will wrapped her in his arms, the way his cheek rested on the crown of her head. She looked down at her hands mixing with his at her waist.

"It's beautiful," she said. "It's absolutely beautiful."


	11. Right Place, Wrong Time

_July 1999_

She never fully understood why Will loved walking around the Village so much until now. It proved to be a great stress reliever. She should have taken him up on his offer; he always told her that she had a home in his apartment, and that she didn't need to move out right away. But once she realized that they were only serving as a crutch to one another, she knew it would be better for both of them if she moved out as soon as she could. She just didn't expect the thousand pound weight that was the stress of apartment hunting mixed with her surprisingly demanding clients lately. So during her lunch break, she decided to take a tip from Will walking the streets, even though Karen had called in sick and the silence that filled the office was peaceful, however lonely.

Coming to Manhattan from Schenectady, Grace wasn't necessarily attracted to the bohemian lifestyle attributed to Greenwich Village. She was blinded by the neon lights and constant buzz of Midtown, as every tourist is their first time to the city. There was something going on every second of every minute of every day, and she wanted to be a part of it; every kid at some point in their life has a desire to get the hell out of wherever it is they're from, and when Grace had that desire, this was the first place she thought of.

Even though the Village was within walking distance from her office in the Puck Building, she had never thought to actually visit it. And now, she felt like a tourist, in a way, not knowing what was in store for her at the end of the block, when she turned onto Fifth Avenue and then Sixth, unable to fully explain her presence in the area. But Will loved it, so she might as well give it a shot.

Will. She hadn't seen much of him in the past two weeks, and he wouldn't explain himself. In all honesty, it was part of the stress, even though he told her not to be concerned. He probably met someone. But if he met someone, why wouldn't he want her to be a part of it? Doesn't everyone need someone to listen whenever they want to spread the good things that are happening in their life?

Grace came upon a little coffeehouse on a quiet street—too quiet for Manhattan, although her vision of Manhattan started cracking as soon as she set foot in the Village—and decided to go in. She ordered a coffee and a bagel, paid and waited at the other end of the counter for her order. Looking around, she saw who she typically classified bohemian—people in vintage thrift store outfits with worn copies of classic novels. And by the window she saw a couple occupying one side of the table. A couple that looked like Will and…oh god.

Was that Karen?

No, she had to be imagining it. It was only a couple who looked like them. But wait. She remembered one night about a year ago when they met up so Karen could get some legal advice. Maybe this was another one of those meetings. But why would they pick this place? Why the Village? Karen's more of an uptown, exclusive restaurant kind of person. Hold on…they're going in closer. Consolation? Maybe Karen's marriage really wasn't all Grace had thought it was. Maybe…no. She did not just see that.

She did not just watch Karen lean in to press her lips against Will's. Did she?

Grace's mind went into overdrive. Damn, it all made sense now. Will not coming home at nights for two weeks. Stan's business trip and Karen's air of not being lonely. They were playing house the entire time, fooling absolutely everyone. But wait. Are we sure this is Will and Karen at the seat by the window? Her eyes could be playing tricks on her.

"Large coffee and poppy seed bagel up."

She grabbed her order and headed for the door. She took one last glance at the couple by the window. Luckily, the woman pulled away from their kiss.

It was definitely Will. And Karen was definitely the one who kissed him.

* * *

The hardest thing he had ever done up to this point was leave that bedroom for the last time. He felt her eyes on him as he packed up his suitcase and zipped it up. When he looked at her, she had a look of defeat about her. "If he wasn't coming until the morning," she said meekly, "I would say stay another night." She said it like some sort of apology that he had to go. "It's just that all this uninterrupted time with you has been so perfect, I don't know how we're going to go back to what we had before."

Will walked over to Karen and held her face in his hands. "Listen to me," he said softly. "We both knew that he was coming back, and we both knew that I would have to go. But we're going to make it work. Once Grace moves, we can have my apartment to ourselves. Hell, I'll even shell out money for a hotel room if it means I get to spend the night with you. I love you, Karen. We'll be okay."

There it was. Her smile was slowly beginning to creep across her face. "Can I at least walk you to the cab downstairs?"

They made their way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Will opened the back door of the taxi waiting outside at the curb and threw his suitcase in. He took Karen into his arms and smiled as she buried her face into his chest. He had to strain to hear it but he could hear a muffled "I don't want you to go."

He kissed the crown of her head. "I am going to see you tomorrow. I'm going to plan something so amazing for you that it will put that gorgeous smile back on your face."

She looked up at him. "I'll call you later tonight when he's gone to bed. I love you."

"I love you too, Karen."

And with that, he got into the cab and drove off.

When Will reached his apartment, he couldn't help but feel a huge let down. Most people, after being away from home for a couple weeks, feel like it's great to be back. But all he wanted to do was rush back to Karen's penthouse, crawl back into that bed with her and never leave. He could see Grace at the other side of the room with the television on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he had just walked in. He walked into his room—god, that bed is going to feel so empty tonight—to drop his suitcase on the mattress before walking back out. He went up to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water.

"Hey," he mumbled as a greeting to Grace.

She suddenly perked up when she saw him, sat up straighter in her seat. "Hey," she replied. "Look, Will…we really need to talk. I saw something today that I need a little clarity on."

"Grace, can we please do this tomorrow? I'm not in the mood right now."

Will shrugged it off as a problem at work, or an issue with an apartment she was looking at. Hell, maybe even guy trouble, although she didn't mention seeing anyone after she had tried to make things work again with Danny. But whatever it was, he could not handle analyzing it tonight. Not after he left Karen. He started to make his way to his room.

"No, you don't understand."

He was still walking.

"I know where you were the last two weeks."

And he stopped in his tracks.


	12. A Reason to Lie

_July 1999_

"When did it start?"

"What is this, an interrogation? Where's the single blinding light shining down on me as you spout off your questions? Come on, Grace, I don't have time for this."

"I'm not playing around here, Will! I know what I saw today. And it definitely links up; you were barely here the last two weeks, Stan was in Germany on business. You spent that time at Karen's place, and please don't deny it. The least you can do is be honest with me. We've known each other nearly fifteen years. We owe it to each other to speak true. When did this start?"

"Let's just say this: that weekend we went to Karen's cabin because you wanted me to get over Michael? I definitely got over him."

"Oh my god. Wait, when at the cabin? Either Jack or I were with you pretty much the entire time."

"Jack went back to that bar he found and I convinced you that I'd be okay by myself long enough for you to go out with that guy. It was the last night we were there. I thought I was alone, but Karen was there, and…look, it's not like either of us planned it, and I didn't think we would go any further than that kiss—and I swear, that's all it was at the cabin, Grace, it was just a kiss. But we did. And I'm not going to try to repent."

Silence.

"But why Karen? That's what's confusing me, and not just on the obvious aspects."

"Do I ask you to explain why you go out with all the men you do?" Silence. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound so harsh. I can't explain why it was her. Maybe it was the fact that it was the anniversary weekend and she was there and she didn't make me feel so alone. And I know that you're going to say that you're here for me always, but you know that it's not the same. I love you, you know that. I can't imagine my life without you. But our relationship can only go so far. She was a little lost, I was a little miserable. I wasn't planning on it lasting, and she tried to stop it, too. But we couldn't. And there's no reason for it."

"Do you love her?"

"Grace…"

"Please. Just answer me. Do you love her?"

"Yes."

"Does she love you back?"

"Yeah. She's told me she does."

"Look, I just wouldn't take everything at face value."

"I don't. Why do you think I'm doing this? You know, in the beginning, I would look at her and just wonder what the hell I was doing. I mean, it's Karen Walker. I had this…this image of her that I couldn't touch. Almost as if she was on a completely different planet than the rest of us. But she just kept surprising me. I'd take her to these little places in the Village and she took to it in a way I've never seen before. And I got so wrapped up in it. I believe every word she says. She's risking her marriage to be with me. She has no reason to lie. So when she tells me she loves me, I know she does."

Silence.

"Will, I had no idea. You know that I will support you in anything you do. And I'm so glad that you're so happy with her. I really am. I just know how you are when you fall. And I know how heartbroken you were the last time you fell and it ended. There is no doubt in my mind now that Karen feels for you what you feel for her. But she's taking a risk every time she's with you. And there's a chance that it's going to backfire. I just don't want you to get hurt again. But I will be there if you need me."

Will's cell phone rang in his pocket. He knew who it was. Because of this little interrogation, he hadn't been able to call Karen like he said he would. He took the phone out and started to walk towards his bedroom. "It's her, I've got to take this," he said to Grace before disappearing from the living room. As soon as he closed the bedroom door behind him he answered the phone.

"I was starting to think you forgot about me." Her voice had a smile in it, as if she had said something completely preposterous. His nerves, his anxiousness, had suddenly vanished as soon as she started speaking. God, how could she do that? It was like that whole thing with Grace—being found out, feeling like a child caught with their hands stuck in the cookie jar—never happened.

"How could I ever forget about you? So, did he get home yet?" It pained him to bring up Stan, but there was no other way around it.

"Yeah. Went straight to bed as soon as he got back. No, I'm sorry. He said a quick hello to me and then went straight to bed. I mean, I get that you just landed and you're probably jetlagged, but you're seeing your wife for the first time in two weeks, you'd think he'd want to spend a little time with me." She let out a sigh before she started again. "It just makes me wish I were with you tonight."

"How about I make it up to you tomorrow? I could get a hotel room, we could have our privacy. We wouldn't have to worry. What do you say?"

"I'd say that's a pretty good deal," she said as she started to laugh. And after a few moments, she posed the question he hoped she would have forgotten by now.

"So why didn't you call right away? I was starting to get a little worried."

Damn it.

"I'm so sorry about that. Grace was holding me up, talking to me. I was trying to get out of it."

"Oh god. She doesn't suspect anything, does she? I don't want to get you in trouble with her, you shouldn't have to go through any of that."

This is what he was afraid of. It could go either way if he told her; she could be relieved, realize that it would be one less person to hide from, but then again, she could get angry at him for letting their secret out, and he couldn't stand the thought of her being mad. So what if he just alluded to the fact that she didn't know? It wouldn't necessarily be lying. Well. It would be lying. But for her own good.

"I don't think she suspects anything," he said quietly.

She let out a sigh of relief.

Karen started talking about the night they had ahead of them tomorrow.

But all Will could think about was the fact that he had just deceived her.


	13. Excuses, Excuses

_May 2000: Will_

If I had known that any one of the people we were connected to would be walking into our coffeehouse that day, at the end of our free-flowing time together, I never would have taken you there in broad daylight. I had broken part of that unspoken set of agreements that we seemed to have; but we already did that when we started waking up together in the morning. And I thought that it would be okay to take you there in the afternoon. Maybe that was why it happened; if you think about it hard enough, long enough, it starts to make sense. Every time we walked into that place, the sun had set and we were playing by the rules we always followed. But in the sunlight, we could be found out, and we were. Maybe that's why.

Or maybe I'm just trying to come up with these reasons so it doesn't look like I've failed you.

When she cornered me into that conversation, she told me not to take you at face value, like everything you said to me could have been, and probably was, a lie. A year and a half ago, I would have believed that. But I knew you better than that. I knew you beyond the surface. I knew you deeper than almost everyone out there. Which is why I started to go to Grace when I needed someone to talk to about us. I went to her not just for me and my own need to talk things out, but for her, so she could see what a beautifully stunning person you really were.

God, I just hope she never took it out on you when everything ended.

She told me once how she wanted to let you in on our secret. I think maybe she was racked with guilt. Or maybe she just couldn't keep it in much longer and needed to let it out for her own good (which, in all honesty, is probably the likelier of the two possibilities; in the end, she told me she wanted to do it so we wouldn't have to hide from her, but I'm not sure how true that is). It was about a month after she found us in the coffeehouse. She told me the silence in the office was too much and something had to be said, but what did you two normally talk about to begin with? I always had a notion of that space being completely quiet aside from the occasional attempts at small talk. She said you were looking at her with eyes that almost expected her to come out with it. And she started to. But then she chickened out, and ended up announcing that she was going out for coffee, and asked if you wanted some.

And when you brushed her off, she rushed outside and tried to collect herself. I was so relieved to hear that she contained herself. If she had told you, chances are she would have told you about the conversation I had with her, before you called me that night. And if you figured out that I kept this from you, you probably wouldn't have been able to trust me. And you know that aside from that, you have no reason not to trust me. I made sure that of all people, Stan was not the one to find out.

Which makes me wonder how he eventually figured it out.

But that's a whole other digression entirely.

Sometimes I know Grace is honestly trying to do right by me; after she got over the fact that I broke her heart in college, she became my number one crusader, always there at the downfall of a relationship or a crush that was realized too late for me to do anything about it. And even when she found out about us, she never batted an eye at the fact that I had fallen in love with a woman that wasn't her. But I know her. When she found out that we were over (she of course would overlook the fact that I was the one to end it, not you), she no doubt was thinking of confronting you to ask what had happened, since I was giving up no details.

All I did was hop the first plane to a land that wasn't Manhattan to get away from it all. And all it got me was work with a client that I didn't want in the first place, and all the time in the world to think about everything I should have done when it came to you but didn't.

We were foolish to think that we could handle things when they reverted to the way they were. I see that now. We took an opportunity to see what our life together would be like without those complications pestering us constantly, and we couldn't get enough. It's not anything to be ashamed of; the only times I've been truly blissful in the past year were the moments I spent with you. If that makes me a criminal, then so be it. But despite our never-ending promises to each other—"We'll be fine," "It'll take some getting used to, but we will get used to it again," "As long as I get to see you, it will work"—we could never fully find our footing again.

We just waited for the next business trip.

And when he left—Paris, Beijing—we slipped back into the groove. You're sensational always, but you really let go of your inhibitions when you realize that the strings you've been attached to for so long have been temporarily cut. You give me a glimpse into the place we want to be, but can never gain full access to, and it's glorious. It's so bright, so comfortable. I don't want to leave. And I know that you don't want to either.

We got greedy, Karen. We wanted what we couldn't have, but we tried to take it anyway. Maybe that's why everything fell apart.

But even in my greed, I never lost sight of who I was: a man helplessly and probably hopelessly chasing down everything you wanted in life so I could give it to you. Can I really be faulted for that?

If you had your reasons why I should be, would it be motivation enough for you to talk to me?

I miss your voice. Even if all you wanted to do was yell at me for leaving you alone in that hotel room, yell at me for all my shortcomings and whatever else I may have done to you that I wasn't aware of, I wouldn't mind it. As long as it was your voice on the other end of that phone, you could scream, you could whisper, you could do whatever you wanted. It's just been far too long without hearing a word from you.

Do you remember that last night? Lying in the hotel bed, your ear to my chest and your hand warm in mine. You told me you wanted to get away from it all, that we should fly somewhere far away and maybe never come back. Then as soon as you said it, you told me it was childish, that no one can disappear forever.

Well…what if we disappeared for a couple weeks? I asked you.

"How would it work? Stan's going to notice I'm gone."

We'd just plan it around one of his business trips. Anywhere you want to go. I'll take you there.

And then you moved in closer to me and I could feel your smile against my skin.

Well, I disappeared. But you're not with me. And I don't know when I'm coming back. Or if I can even come get you and disappear again.

Or if you would even want me to come get you.

This is all I know: you're probably home with Stan, trying to salvage what's left of your marriage. He might have told you that he knew. Maybe you'll put it together. Maybe you won't. But either way, you're in the same bed as him, trying to make it feel right. And you should—I never should have intruded on your marriage, even though you've made me the happiest person in the world. You're trying to restore some normalcy to your life while slowly trying to forget everything we had.

And I'm here making excuses for why it all came crashing down.

When in reality, it was all my fault.


	14. You Remind Me

_January 2000_

They welcomed the New Year together by accident. Up until last night, they had both assumed that although they wanted nothing more than to be each other's first kiss of 2000, she would have to stay with her husband while he would probably end up hanging out with Grace watching the ball drop on TV, drinking mediocre champagne. And they would think to call each other—if they couldn't be together, they could at least dial a phone—but then think better of it, for fear of someone eavesdropping on the conversation who shouldn't be. But when Karen came home, she found a note from her husband on the nightstand next to her side of the bed.

_Complete meltdown at the office. Went over to do damage control. I'll most likely be pulling an all-nighter, so don't wait up for me. Hoping you can find someone to celebrate with tonight. Happy New Year._

_Stan_

If it weren't for the prospect of Will spending the night with her, she probably would have noticed the absence of an "I love you" written in her husband's handwriting.

She immediately picked up the phone, and after very little convincing—she knew she had him hooked in at "I've got the place to myself for the night"—and soon after, she heard Will's knock on the door. Once she opened the door, he scooped her up in his arms and spun her around a little as she let out a laugh. He brushed his lips against hers and said, "You can't imagine how happy I am to be here right now."

"I was half expecting you to say you had plans already. I thought maybe Grace had coerced you into spending the night with her so she wouldn't have to be alone."

Will hesitated for a moment. "No, she…she actually had a date tonight. So I would have been alone tonight if you hadn't have called me." He watched as the smile on her face grew wider, and she led him upstairs into the spare bedroom they had deemed theirs.

In actuality, Grace was sitting next to him when he took Karen's call. And she immediately understood as she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, wished him a happy New Year and watched him walk out the door to the penthouse. But Karen still didn't know that Grace was in on their secret. And Will wasn't about to tell her now.

When they were in the bedroom, they stripped down and climbed into bed, Karen burying herself deeper into Will's arms, the glow and low sound of the live coverage of Times Square in the background. They poured the champagne Karen had chilled for the night and kept the lights off, save for the tiny flames of a few candles along the top of the dressers and nightstands that decorated the room (Stan could never figure out why they needed dressers and nightstands here if they were barely going to use the room, but Karen insisted. Who knew if someone would be spending more than just a night here?). At only a few minutes before midnight, Karen broke the silence that had comfortably taken over the room.

"You know, you remind me a lot of the first person I ever truly fell in love with."

She rarely ever opened up about her past; he learned that the hard way when, on occasion, he used to ask her simple questions about childhood, her years leading up to his time with her, just to know her better. She would want to change the subject and was always successful; he never wanted to upset her. So he knew that when she started talking about things like this, it was a gem he needed to cherish while he could.

"I mean really fell in love with, not any of that playground, childhood stuff of first boyfriends. I had just moved to Manhattan and met him at a bar in Chelsea. God, that's so typical and clichéd, and you never think you're going to meet the one that way, but damn it, I really thought I had. And he pulled me in so quickly, too. He had dark hair like yours, a shining light in his eyes like yours. He told me that he would take care of me always, and I believed him. I really did. I had no reason to think he'd lie to me."

"So what happened between the two of you?"

"He proposed to me and I became Karen St. Croix. And then a year and a half later, I found out he had started cheating on me a week after we got married with someone he met at a coffee shop in SoHo. So I divorced him and tried to find someone who made me half as happy as he made me. But I became less trusting of everyone in the process. If someone I trusted with all of my being could hurt me like that, why should I believe anything anyone else says?" She stopped for a little bit, as if unsure if she should continue, but inevitably she did. "That's why you scare me sometimes," she whispered slowly, with a tinge of guilt. "Because you remind me so much of him and how he used to be with me."

"Look at me," he said softly as her eyes locked with his. "The fact that I'm willing to risk so much just to be near you should tell you everything. I have no intention of hurting you. Ever. I will spend the rest of my days giving you the world and more if that's what it takes to make you see that you're safe with me. I love you, Karen. I'm not going anywhere. And even if we have two days alone with each other or two minutes, it's all I ever need."

At that moment, when she looked into his eyes, she had all the reassurance in the world that she was in the arms of a man she loved and could trust more than she ever thought she could. The cheers of the crowd in Times Square caused her to look at the clock; its electric red numbers screamed "12:00am" in celebration. She pressed her lips to his. "Happy New Year," she said with a smile.

Suddenly, she heard a door slam, and she reached for the remote control to mute the television. A voice from downstairs called to her. "Karen?"

Oh god.

Stan.

The panicked look on her face was reflected in Will's as they shot out of bed. She quickly threw a robe around her naked body as he started to redress and blow out the candles. Karen hurried out the door, not completely closing it, as she met Stan at the stairs.

"I thought you were stuck at work," she said.

"I got everything finished rather quickly," Will could hear him say. "I thought maybe we could celebrate the New Year together."

"That sounds great, honey. Why don't you go to our bedroom, and I'll meet you there in a little bit. I want to get some champagne for us." She waited until the door to the master bedroom closed behind him before grabbing Will and rushing him down the stairs. She led him outside the front door.

"I am so sorry; he told me he'd be pulling an all-nighter."

"It's okay, really," Will said as he took her into his arms. "It comes with the territory." There was a smile in his voice, no anger. "I could see if there are any rooms available for tomorrow night at that hotel we went to." Lately, they had been taking refuge in hotel rooms, paying for uninterrupted time. It was an expensive solution—mainly for Will in the literal sense, since he was the one to pay for the room each time—but the best one in their eyes. Ever since their time together while Stan was away on business, they always had an insatiable need that they tried desperately to feed. Although, you could argue that they had that all along.

"Let me take care of it, Will. Please. To make up for this. I have the money, it's no problem at all." He nodded as she said it, and she knew she would be able to think of nothing else once he left.

Will kissed her one final time and gave her a smile. "Happy New Year, Karen." She watched as he walked down the hallway to the elevator.

And then she walked back into her home and proceeded with a half-hearted celebration with Stan.


	15. Last Stop Tonight

_January 2000_

It was perfect. A suite at the Plaza for the night—if she was going to do this, if she was going to be the one to set everything up, she was going to go big; they deserved it—after a little time in the Village, so they could make up for the time they lost at New Year's. She went to the hotel to check in, dropped her things in the suite and made her way down to the coffeehouse to meet Will. She ordered coffee for the two of them and nursed her own until she saw him walk through the door.

"Aren't you going to ask me where we're going tonight?" she asked with a grin as he sat down and thanked her for the coffee.

"Aren't we going to the same place we always do?"

"Not quite…but it's going to be great. Trust me."

"You know that as long as I'm with you, I don't care where we are."

When she looked into his eyes, she knew it was love. The kind of love you could feel without a touch, you could hear without a word, you could see in the pitch black of night. "You know, with everything I told you last night…If you're trying to prove that you'll be nothing like him, you really don't need to. That wasn't the point."

"I'm not here to prove that I'm a good person or that I'm flawless. I'm here because I love you. I'm here because I realize now that it's you. Even with the strings, even with the restrictions. It's you. And I can't wait to see what you have in store for us tonight."

With that, he took Karen by the hand and kissed her palm as she stood up to lead him to the hotel. Her instinct was to brace herself against the harsh January cold, tensing up when it was the last thing she wanted to do. But when she felt Will's arms wrapping around her as she hailed a taxi, she relaxed completely against his touch. This was how life was supposed to be, she saw that now. It was supposed to be warm coffee and soft hands in the Village, heartbeat lullabies at night. It was supposed to be falling without fear and marveling at how wonderful the view from below is.

The cab pulled up to the curb in front of the Plaza, and Karen caught Will gazing up at the building from his seat with an open mouth. She couldn't help but let out a little laugh. "Are you serious?" she heard him whisper.

"I wanted to go all out to make up for last night, since it was partially my fault."

Will looked at her. "What are you talking about? It's not your fault. You couldn't have known that Stan was going to come home earlier than expected."

"But I dragged you into a situation I shouldn't have dragged you into. Anyway, don't get too excited yet. You haven't seen the inside of our suite."

Once they made it outside of the cab, Karen led him to their suite and unlocked the door. Will was silent for a few moments as he walked around the place, taking in his surroundings. God, the place was gorgeous. For a moment, he wondered where she got the cash to pay for this. And then he remembered who she was. And whose money it most likely was that paid for the room. But it didn't seem to faze him.

"So," Karen started. "What do you think?"

Will walked over to her and brushed his lips against hers.

"It's absolutely perfect."

* * *

He wasn't stupid. He most definitely heard two people walking around in the hallway that night.

He started to grow suspicious when he left for Beijing the other month. Skipping the Berlin trip was understandable. Skipping Paris didn't even bother him. But once he boarded the plane headed for Beijing he thought about the fact that Karen had turned down yet another chance to get away for a little while. And that certainly wasn't like her. He wanted to think that she wouldn't do anything, but there was always that little bit inside him that held his doubt. But since there was no proof, he let it go.

Until now.

Karen seemed just a bit too frazzled to see him. Maybe it was simply surprise that weighed her down. And he would have fully believed that too, if it hadn't been for the fact that once he made his way towards the master bedroom, he heard someone walking down from the other side of the hall. Stan left the door to the bedroom open just a crack, enough to see Karen make her way towards the staircase again.

And enough to see the back of another man's head.

But through all of that, he didn't necessarily feel any anger towards that unnamed man, whoever he was, or towards Karen, for that matter. True, he still loved Karen, and always will. But lately, their marriage had been slightly crumbling, whether it was promises he couldn't fully fulfill, or the fact that their conversations had grown so sparse that there was nothing left. He had to face the fact; they stopped connecting a long time ago. But it just took him until now to acknowledge it.

Stan hadn't seen his wife all night tonight. And he wasn't going to wait up for her. She would come back when she wanted to. He only wanted her to be happy, and he only hoped that whoever she was with, whoever that man was he saw walking down his staircase, was making her happy if he couldn't. He went to the bedroom to find the bank book for his and Karen's joint account on the nightstand. He grabbed it, ready to put it back where they usually do, when he opened it up.

The last entry was in Karen's handwriting. A withdrawal from the Plaza.

She was with him, he knew it.

Was he really going to be that guy? The one who storms over to their secret place only to out them, making everyone involved miserable? He couldn't do that, not to Karen, or the man she's with, for that matter—he didn't even know who this guy was, but he knew already that he didn't want to make him out to be the villain. No one was really at fault here.

But he was curious to see who she chose. He was curious to know what this guy looked like from the front, how he talked to his wife, how he treated her. Maybe he could learn something from him. Maybe he could finally see what he was doing wrong.

He wouldn't be going over there to argue. He'd be going over there to make sure she was happy. It was different. He would be different.

It would be okay…right?

Well, no matter.

He was already outside, on the curb, hailing a taxi to take him to the hotel.


	16. Into Thin Air

_January 2000_

The last thing he remembered before everything turned dark: the way their hair was still damp from the shower, hers shining in the blue glow of the muted television.

Karen had reluctantly slipped out of his grasp after they had made love, and he watched her as she made her way to the bathroom to take a shower, giving him a subtle "Come hither" look that she used half jokingly. But as the curtain opened and he stepped in behind her, she welcomed his arms wrapping around her waist, his kisses on her bare skin. She stood there for a moment, as the water rained down on them from above, weaving her fingers with his, and Will knew that this was the only place he wanted to be.

Afterwards, when they climbed back into bed, Karen whispered to him right before she fell asleep in his arms as they were watching late night television that she wanted to get away, take a trip to another land with him. He made it sound like it was actually possible, and when he promised her that they could make it happen, she smiled against his skin before slowly drifting off to sleep.

Will muted the sound with the remote control to make sure it wouldn't wake her, and he took in the weight of her against him. He marveled at how perfectly she fit in the space. A lock of her hair had matted itself to her cheek, and he gently brushed it behind her ear; god, her skin was so smooth. And the look on her face when she's slipping into a deep sleep was so beautiful. He almost didn't want to fall asleep with her, for fear of missing out on something brilliant.

But there was a soft knock on the door before he could.

_Who the hell could that be?_ he thought as he slid Karen out of his arms so gently, he didn't wake her. Will got dressed again and walked to the door, opened it slowly. And he found Stan on the other side of the door.

Will froze in his spot. _How did he know where to find us? More importantly, how did he know about the two of us? Damn, he couldn't have heard me leave the other night, could he? God, why isn't he saying anything? He should be tearing me apart right now._ His mind was spinning when he heard a rustle of the sheets. The two of them looked over at the bed as Karen shifted around in bed before settling down again. Will looked back at Stan for a moment before watching him walk away.

Stan wasn't able to say all the things he wanted to. But at least he got confirmation.

But it was something that Will couldn't handle. All of it just became too real. He saw Stan. He was caught in the act. There was no way he could go on breaking up this marriage, no matter how much he loved Karen. He needed to leave. Now. Will rushed around the room as quietly as he could, gathering his things, giving Karen a soft kiss on the forehead before walking out the door.

He would call her tomorrow, tell her what happened. He would set it straight, and they would be able to see where they went from there.

But right now, he didn't have a hold on it at all, and he let this become the first and only time where he was the one to disappear into thin air.

* * *

"What are you doing home? I thought you were spending the night with Karen."

Grace had heard someone in the hallway and decided to investigate, only to find Will fumbling with his key and his overnight bag at his door. He turned around to find his friend in pajamas, her eyes and voice heavy with sleep but still full of concern.

"I think it's over. It's got to be over. He knows. He's going to tell her that he knows, and it's going to be over, I know it. All of it's going to end, because he knows. He found out."

"Wait, slow down. Who knows?"

"Stan. He found us, he came to the hotel."

"What? Are you serious?"

"She was asleep the entire time; at least I think she was. So she doesn't know that he was there, and she doesn't know that I left. I just couldn't stay there knowing…look, I love her. You know that. But I just…couldn't stay there knowing that I was breaking up that relationship. He didn't say anything to me, but he didn't have to. But it killed me to leave her. I can't tell you how much that hurt."

"Will, I'm so sorry," Grace said as she pulled him into her arms to console him. "What does this mean for the two of you?"

"I don't know. I'm going to call her tomorrow, to make sure she knows what happened. I don't want her to think that I left her on a whim."

"I'm sure she won't."

Will wanted to believe her. But at this point, he wasn't exactly sure.

* * *

When Karen woke up the next morning, she couldn't feel him lying next to her. And the sheets on his side of the bed were cold, deprived of his warmth. She called out his name, but to no avail. Looked around the bathroom, the main sitting area, the rest of the suite, but came up empty handed. Well. Maybe he went out for some coffee or something, and didn't want to wake her. She got dressed and waited for him to come back.

But then an hour rolled by. And another. And another.

Before she knew it, it was check out time. And she left the hotel alone.

When she got into the taxi, she couldn't help but let the tears start to roll down her cheeks. He just did what he said he would never do. And she wanted answers, but at the same time, she couldn't bear the thought of talking to him right now. What the hell was he thinking? Why now? It was almost a year since they first kissed; if he was going to walk out on her, he should have done it in the beginning. Don't do it when you so far into it that the surface is a distant memory.

What did she do to make him run?

She heard her cell phone go off in her purse, and she grabbed it to see who was calling. Speak of the devil. Will was on the other end, waiting for her to pick up. She wanted to know why. She wanted to know when he left, what caused him to pack up all his stuff and go. Why he left when she was still sleeping. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to leave when she didn't have a chance to say goodbye. It wasn't fair to leave her without the reasons to fall back on.

She could pick up and let him explain.

But she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.

She put the phone back in her purse, not ready to talk to him, and tried to wipe away her tears with no success.


	17. Four Months

_May 2000_

He didn't give up hope. He called at least once every day for the next week and a half after he left, sometimes more, after the night he left the hotel. As the weeks rolled on, he still called, but more time had gone by between them. After a month, he started visiting Grace at the office again, partly to see her, but more so to see if Karen would be willing to talk to him. But every time he came by, she had conveniently slipped out, and wouldn't come back until he left—maybe she was tipped off by Grace's end of the phone conversation every time he called to see if she was free for a visit. But after all of that, he still didn't give up hope.

Until he realized that four months had gone by. And that there was nothing else he could do.

Will tried to bounce back, to move on, and when he met Alex and started talking to him, it was the first time in four months that his mind didn't revert to thoughts of Karen. He was genuinely excited at the thought of starting something new, and immediately agreed to a first date. He let Alex pick the place, which he knew now to be the fatal mistake in his attempts to move forward. They took a taxi downtown, and stopped at the Village; "I know this great little place for coffee," Alex said excitedly. "You're going to love it." Well. He was right on that one. He did love it. He had just been there before, and it was the last place he wanted to start up a new relationship.

It was their coffeehouse, his and Karen's, and they took the seat by the window that he always inhabited with her. And he couldn't keep his mind on anything else but her: her kiss, her smile, the way her lips wrapped around the rim of her coffee cup. It all came back, and turned the lights off on whatever possibilities could have arisen with Alex.

It was doomed from the start.

He missed all the dates they had tried to set up, his heart wasn't in a lot of what he was doing. It was like those first weeks after the night in the hotel all over again, and he didn't know if he would be able to handle it a second time; he could barely handle it when it first happened. And Grace, god love her, tried to make him feel better. But as soon as she got caught up in her relationship with Ben—and her relationship with Josh, for that matter—he felt things starting to crumble all around. It was partly his fault—not getting over Karen, quitting his job over Ben's infidelity when it turned out Grace was doing the same thing—but he didn't think he'd be able to fix it. So he did the only thing he could do.

He left a phone message for Grace before leaving for the airport, and buying a ticket for the first plane leaving for anywhere out of the country.

Before he knew it, he landed in the Virgin Islands. And it felt great for a while, no one knowing where he was, nothing from Manhattan haunting him. And then Ben showed up. And like a fool, he took a job during his vacation time.

Seeing Ben again had shoved his mind back to New York, back to whatever debris he left behind him, back to Karen. He remembered their conversation in the hotel room that last night, about how she wanted to escape, get away for a little while, just the two of them. He could have taken her here, if only she would let him talk to her.

After a sleepless night, he found the most professional outfit he had packed with him—this was a vacation, how the hell was he supposed to know he'd be working?—and made his way to the address Ben gave him. The place was gorgeous; extravagant, but gorgeous. He rang the bell.

And he hoped that maybe immersing himself in work would take his mind off of everything going on in his life that he couldn't fix.

* * *

She thought that in a month, two tops, she would be able to talk to him. So she let her cell phone ring until she couldn't stand it anymore, and turned the phone off entirely, with every intent to eventually, in the near future, pick it up and dial. She thought that in a month, two tops, she would be able to be in the same room with him. But until then, she left the office whenever she knew he would be coming by, and took refuge in a store or a restaurant or a coffee shop, killing as much time as she possibly could before she absolutely had to go back to work. And each time she left, she told herself that soon she'd be able to face him.

And then four months went by. But her feelings didn't change a bit.

Stan had asked her on another one of his trips, this time to the Virgin Islands, and when she agreed to accompany him, she could hear the surprise in his voice as he filled her in on the details of the trip. She honestly didn't care where or when they went. She just cared about the fact that she wouldn't be in New York.

She wished she could have left with Will. But maybe this will be okay.

When they got to the house after they landed, she realized it was big enough for her to completely distance herself from Stan if she wanted to. But right now, she wasn't sure if she wanted to. She didn't want to be alone, because she knew that her thoughts of Will, of that last night they had together, of her disappointment and confusion, would keep her company if her husband didn't. And it went well until last night.

Without anything more to talk about, Stan filled Karen in on their apparent tax issues—why he chose to talk about this during dinner was beyond her—and that they would be meeting with a lawyer in the morning. So much for a potentially relaxing vacation. Late in the night, Stan fell ill and, until further notice, left her to handle the appointment in the morning.

When she woke up, she made her way outside to relax and have some time to herself. God, she could never get away from anything. Her troubles always followed her wherever she went, and it irritated her to no end. She may not be a perfect person—then again, who is?—and she may have done some things in the past that she's not proud of and she wishes she could take back. But isn't this punishment a little excessive?

At around ten in the morning, she heard the bell ring, one of the help greeting who she assumed was the lawyer they were supposed to meet with. Stan was still not feeling well, and she knew that, for the time being, she would have to be the one to talk with this person.

She heard footsteps, and then a voice.

"Good morning."

She froze up. No. This can't be. It wasn't. It was her mind. Yes, all in her mind. Playing tricks, deceiving her. It was merely because she was so starved for his voice, she could imagine it in anyone. She turned around to greet the person behind her.

Damn it.

"I swear to God, I didn't know it was going to be you. Ben just gave me this assignment, he didn't tell me anything about the people I'm supposed to meet with."

She was silent, couldn't find a voice to speak.

"I can go if you want. I should go." He started to leave.

"No, wait, Will…" She watched him turn around.

"Stay. We need to talk."


	18. Cornered

_May 2000_

"You never answered your phone." Said like something he just figured out, like something she never would have known. What else could he say? It was the first time he had seen her in four months, and she was the last person he expected to see here. What was the best way to ease into this inevitable conversation?

"Can you blame me, after the way you left me? It wasn't as though we were just starting out and I chickened out every time I was faced with a goodbye. And it wasn't as though someone walked in on us; we were in a hotel for god's sake! Just tell me why you did it."

"Because Stan walked in on us."

Silence.

"You're lying to me."

"Why would I ever lie to you? I have no reason to, not back then, and not now. You want to know what happened, why I left? This is why I wouldn't stop calling you; you needed to hear why I did it. I wasn't trying to hurt you, even though I ended up doing it anyway, you have to know that. You had fallen asleep but I just couldn't close my eyes, so I muted the TV and tried to focus when I heard a knock on the door. And when I opened it, Stan was on the other side. I didn't say anything and neither did he. He just stood there for a little while and left. You slept through all of it, and I didn't know how to tell you. I figured I would call you the next day, when I gathered my thoughts, but you never picked up."

"How the hell could he have figured out where we were? It's not like I broadcasted it."

"I don't know how he found out, Karen. Maybe the cash withdrawal from the hotel showed up on your bank statement, maybe he heard you make the reservation. I don't know. All I know is he was there, and I couldn't handle the fact that I was stealing you away from him. I was okay with the strings attached when I couldn't see them. But when he was on the other side of the door…it became real. I'm sorry that I handled it the way I did. But I can't take it back. I can only make up for it."

She looked at him for a moment as if she was having a hard time taking everything in. It was big enough to have Will come waltzing in here when she was expecting one of Ben Doucette's other faceless employees that she couldn't remember and could care less about. But not him. She hardly had herself prepared for facing him when she got back from the Virgin Islands, whenever that may be. But honestly, that was not why she held the gaze she held. Karen was racking her brain, trying to figure out how Stan would have found out about the hotel, about her last night with Will. And then it came to her.

Oh god.

"I'm so stupid," she whispered. "It was me. I wrote it down in the bank book, he must have seen it. Why did I write it down? I messed everything up."

"No, Karen, don't say that. You couldn't have known that he'd see it."

He made a step towards her, wanting to comfort her. This isn't what he came here for. He didn't want to make her upset, he didn't want to make her angry. He just wanted to let her know the truth, and she could do with that what she wanted. But when he moved closer, she flinched.

"Will, he's in the house."

"That's not what I was going to do." Opening up his briefcase, he took out a piece of paper and a pen, wrote down the address where he was staying. He handed it to Karen. "This is where I'm staying. If you can, or even if you want to, come by tonight. Anytime tonight, I don't care. I'll be there." He watched her nod. "Tell Stan that we can work on his tax issue when he's feeling up to it."

And with that, he left, leaving Karen stunned and unsure what to do.

* * *

"How did the meeting go?" Stan's voice was heavy with sleep; he was still in bed trying to sleep off whatever illness he had. Karen sat on the other side of the mattress with her back towards him. She couldn't look at him, not with what she was planning to say.

"We didn't do anything. Will's going to come back when you're feeling better, so you can deal with it, since I'm not too sure exactly what's going on."

"Will was here?"

"Why didn't you tell me that you knew?" she asked, completely disregarding her husband's question.

"I figured he would have done that." He looked at Karen's back, took a deep breath. "Which I'm assuming he did just now. Look, Karen. I didn't go to the hotel to ruin anything for you. I went to see if you were happy with him. I'm not stupid. I know that our marriage is far less than perfect and our relationship is strained. All I ever wanted for you was for you to be happy, whatever that entailed. Were you happy with him?"

She couldn't speak for fear of the tears welling up in her eyes starting to stream down her face.

"Were you?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered. Simple, soft, but the impact was big enough.

"That's all I wanted to know. I don't want to keep you here just because I want to. It goes both ways. If you want to go see him, then go. I won't be angry. We can talk about us later, when I'm feeling better and I'm able to hold a decent conversation. We can talk about what we want to do. But I know you want to see him."

Karen turned around to face him, completely surprised by what he had just said. "Stanley, why are you so calm about this?"

"Because I've suspected for months. And it gave me time to come to terms with it. I still love you, you know that. But if you're not happy with me, I would let you go if that meant you had all the happiness in the world."

She felt her tears rolling down her cheeks, the warm saline stinging her skin with feelings of confusion. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She couldn't believe that he would actually be okay with this. God, she didn't want to be in this situation. If only she hadn't have let that kiss happen, back in Vermont, what felt like a million years ago. None of this would be happening. She wouldn't feel so helpless. But who was she kidding?

If she could go back, she'd just do it all over again.

"I have to think about things," she said as she stood up.

She didn't dare look at Stan on her way out of the bedroom.

But she could feel his gaze against her back.


	19. The Reoccurring Dream

_May 2000_

In the four months spanning between their last night in January and when he first saw her in the Virgin Islands, Will was haunted by a reoccurring dream. No. "Haunted" wasn't the right word for it; he wasn't scared, and it wasn't bad. In fact, he welcomed the dream to the point that he didn't want to wake up from it, although he inevitably did. The setting would change sometimes—his bedroom, a nondescript hotel room, the living room of his apartment at one point, but it was always a singular room—but the same thing always happened.

He would be alone in the darkness, and out of nowhere the door would fly open to reveal Karen, usually in something sleek and black, occasionally in a deep crimson. And every time, she completely dominated the room. The space no longer belonged to him; it belonged to her, and she knew it. She would walk towards him, press her lips against his fiercely, and do with him what she will. But it seemed as though every time he tried to touch her, every time he tried something that wasn't yet approved by her, she started to vanish, and he woke up.

Tonight, though, he was woken from the dream by a knock on the door.

She had been crying, it was obvious; her cheeks were still a little tear-stained, and even in the dark of the silent room, he could see that. She was silent, not even fully looking at him as she walked slowly into the room. It was nothing like how he dreamt it. But he didn't care.

She came. That's all that mattered.

"He got over it before he even knew for sure," she said softly as she made her way over to the bed and took a seat on the mattress. "He told me that as long as I'm happy, he wasn't one to keep me with him against my will. It was like he had no issue with me coming here tonight, like he wouldn't have an issue if I did it again. I really don't know how to feel about that."

"But you're here anyway," he replied.

"You asked me to. You wanted me here."

"You didn't have to come."

Karen looked at him directly for the first time that night. "I wanted to."

When Will sat down next to her and took her hand, he could feel the tension her body possessed. He slowly put an arm around her shoulders and let out a sigh of relief when she didn't flinch the way she did earlier. She relaxed against his touch as he pulled her in closer. To feel her head resting on his shoulder…god, it was fantastic.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, Karen. You have no idea how much I've missed the weight of you in my arms, how much I missed your voice, how much I've missed everything. I'm so sorry that I left so quickly that night. I'm sorry that I'm the one that caused us to lose four months."

"Will, don't. Please. Let's not talk about that. That doesn't matter anymore. We're here now."

The silence that surrounded them was thick, but comfortable. He could feel Karen breathing against his chest, her arms wrapped limply around his waist. He kissed the crown of her head and almost didn't hear what she said next, not expecting either of them to break the silence.

"Would you ever let me go without a fight?"

She seemed to overlook the fact that he already did when she asked this, even though the circumstances proved that that wasn't exactly how it worked out. Maybe she was over it now, maybe she just didn't mention it out of kindness. Either way, he was not about to bring it up again; he didn't want to mess this up. They were finally talking again, finally trying to get back on track (or maybe it was only he who wanted to get back on track?); he couldn't answer in haste.

"If I had it my way, I wouldn't let you go at all. I need you."

She looked into his eyes with a growing warmth that he swore he could feel. "You've got me. You always have."

Karen watched him for a moment before brushing her lips against his in a tender kiss.

And when she pulled away, Will saw the smile that he was dying to see.

* * *

_Karen_

I look at you now, lying in bed next to me, and I know what it feels like to be whole. What it feels like to have everything line up perfectly, what it feels like to not have to work so damn hard for what you truly want, because the other is so willing to give it to you. I could go on about how horrible it's been without you the past four months. I could go on about how all I wanted to do was see you, talk to you, but I never could gather the courage to actually do any of that. But it all seems so pointless now. I'm with you now. I can feel you now. And that's all I've ever wanted.

Maybe I don't regret taking this trip so much anymore. If I wasn't so unexpectedly forced to see you, I don't know if I ever would have been able to do it on my own. I don't know what's in store for us. I don't know how I'm going to handle everything with Stan. I don't know. But when I look at you, I suddenly don't care what lies ahead. It doesn't worry me; as long as you're by my side at the end of the day.

You mean the world to me. Because I know you love me. And I know I love you back.

And when I look at you, lying in bed next to me, I know what it feels like to be whole.

* * *

_Will_

I tried to tell myself before that if I knew how our story was going to end, I would have played it like you originally intended, just shrug it off as a fluke, an accident. Because to know your love and to know that I lost it was something I never could handle. But our story isn't over yet. We don't know what will happen in the future. Our final chapter could be written next year, or next month, or next week. Tomorrow. In an hour. But we'll take it as it comes.

All I know is that I love the way your skin feels against mine late at night.

I will do whatever it takes to ease you back into Manhattan. To help you when it comes to Stan. I don't know what you want to do when we get home. But you know that you have all of my support and love throughout it all. We'll figure it out. As long as you're here with me, that's all I need.

I love you, Karen.

I used to tell myself that I would have played it like you originally wanted to, given the choice.

Now I can't wait to see how we continue our story.


End file.
